


Court Flowers in Full Blossom

by devilinthedetails



Series: Free Spirit [4]
Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen, Sisterhood, court life, fashion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25773865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: Between court parties, Lianne changes.
Series: Free Spirit [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864777
Kudos: 8





	Court Flowers in Full Blossom

Court Flowers in Full Blossom

It was bright spring in Corus. All the rose gardens were in their brief, glorious, and fragrant full bloom—the rich aroma of their pink, white, and red petals wafting through the air. The young flowers of the court—perfumed with the eternally fashionable, classic scents of lavender and lilac—were blossoming as well. 

Spring at court was the season for dazzling debuts of ladies just finishing their training at the convent. Their families, radiant with pride that made them shine like a sun disk in a Mithran chapel, hosted extravagant parties in their honor, introducing them to the court where they would meet their husbands. Those blushing maidens, a few years older than the flushed debutantes, who had met their fiances became hostesses of even more elaborate celebrations that seemed to be in endless competition to discover which could be more ostentatious. 

Lianne would’ve avoided all such events as if they were the Sweating Sickness, but as young princesses of the realm, she and Vania were flooded with a constant stream of invitations to them every spring just as the Olorun overflowed with rain water. Since it would’ve been unacceptably gauche for her and Vania to refuse to attend too many of these joyful occasions—Mama had established as much in a very firm voice that was impossible to argue with—many spring days blended together in a blur as she was rushed from one celebration to the next with little time in between to rest or refresh her makeup in the royal quarters. 

“There are damp stains under my armpits.” Lianne pouted into the gilded mirror that dominated a wall in the room she shared with Vania, running a damp cloth over her sweaty forehead. The petulant expression drew attention to her lips, and she thought she should touch them up with dabs of carnation-pink paint before she had to hurry off to commemorate another young lady’s escape from the convent. Touching up her lip paint would require effort, however. More effort than she currently felt like expending. All she felt like doing, in fact, was climbing into a cool bath and not moving again until the heat lifted from Corus, which would probably be some time in the fall. “I’m soaked in sweat.” 

“I know. I could smell it.” Vania wrinkled up her dainty nose like a rabbit’s as she spread powder over it.

“You can’t smell it,” Lianne retorted by reflex because she was too tired for a true quarrel. “Not over my perfume.” 

“Oh, is your perfume sweat-scented then?” Vania added droplets of her own floral perfume to her wrists and neck. “I must mention I don’t find the aroma flatters you.” 

“I need a bath and a rest.” Lianne scowled. “Preferably before I strangle you.” 

"No time for a rest or a bath, but time for a change into something less smelly and sweat-soaked.” With a cheeriness that could only be described as obnoxious, Vania yanked open the doors of their wardrobe. Humming tunelessly to herself, she rifled through the silk gowns in the soft colors stylish in the spring season. Her search complete, she tossed one the shade of pale sunlight at Lianne, who managed to muster the energy to catch it. “A change in outfit and a change in makeup because Mama always says…” 

Letting her last gown—a light green one the color of new grass—drop to the floor in a whisper of silk, Lianne slipped the one Vania had thrown her over her head. Her words muffled by the fabric, Lianne finished her mother’s saying for her sister, “A change in outfit and a change in makeup is as good as a rest.” 

Her tone was flat, dull, and devoid of any emotion. She only hoped that a changed dress and freshened makeup would make her appear appropriately youthful rather than as a wilted court flower past her prime like the pinched prune-lipped sour lady of Nond.


End file.
